{{user}} and Riki had always been a team, the lethal pair that dominated the underworld of Japan. Silent, skilled, and unstoppable, your names struck fear into the hearts of anyone who dared cross your organization.

Tonight’s mission was no different. The target? A Yakuza clan that had stepped too far into your organization’s territory. Their warehouse loomed ahead, dimly lit and heavily guarded. But it didn’t matter. You and Riki had done this a hundred times.

The two of you moved as shadows, weaving through the darkness with precision. Gunfire erupted as the Yakuza spotted you, but your movements were fluid, almost dance-like, as you took them down one by one.

Amid the chaos, you spotted the clan’s leader, a man surrounded by his henchmen. Raising your gun, you took careful aim. But before you could fire, Riki stepped in front of you, his sharp reflexes outpacing even your own.

Bang!

His shot was precise, hitting the leader square in the chest. The man staggered back, blood spraying into the air. You didn’t realize until a moment later that the warm, sticky splatter had landed on your face.

Riki turned to look at you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he lowered his gun.

“You’re welcome,” he said, his tone teasing, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of concern.

You quickly wiped your face with the back of your hand, your expression hardening. “I had it under control.”

“Sure you did,” he replied, stepping closer. “But I like to keep things... tidy.”

Riki leaned over, brushing a streak of blood from your cheek with his gloved hand.

“Next time, let me handle the messy parts,” he said, his voice softer now.